


Smoke the rude

by Merwin_Me



Category: Hannibal (TV), Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Cannibalism, Charlie is rude, Eggsy has an uncle, Gen, Hannibal Being Hannibal, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6695596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merwin_Me/pseuds/Merwin_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie gets sent to Minnesota by Poppy in order to gain an ally in the infamous Chesapeake Ripper, but Charlie's rudeness gets him into trouble, as usual.</p><p>Eggsy has an uncle who is also a rather good cook, didn't you know?</p><p>OR</p><p>Charlie lives for a while (but he wished he didn't).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke the rude

Minnesota.

Looking around him with a sneer curling his lips, Charlie Hesketh gave the poorly dressed Americans around him glares of disdain, pulling at the napes of the jacket of his finely tailored as if to prove the silent point of his superiority.

Of all the places his new boss could send him to for an assignment, it had to be this dreary place. Thus far, he had not even seen a single high-class shop, nor any members of society whose social standing was even close to his. If it were not for his boss Poppy’s demands, Charlie would have never set foot in this place.

And even though he was here now, he hadn’t the slightest idea how he would be able to find the man Poppy tasked him with convincing to join their cause. They didn’t even have a name they could give Charlie, only the moniker he went by.

The Chesapeake Ripper.

Even the thought of the nickname the local gossip rag had given this serial killer made Charlie wish he could just turn around and walk away from it all. Honestly, since when did honest organizations need to hire a cannibalistic killer?

When he got back to base, Charlie would make sure to have some words with Poppy, and not in the least for sending him out on such a banal mission. He had trained to be a Kingsman, for the Lord’s sake! His many talents would be of much better use out there in the field, not here, gathering allies.

Sharply turning a corner at the end of the street, Charlie groaned as he smacked into someone with a chest that felt like a brick wall.

“Watch where you’re going!” Charlie snapped, moving around the man who was now wearing his expensive Starbucks coffee. “Blind lowlife.” Was added in a murmur as Charlie briskly moved on, not seeing the man’s slight frown and sharp eyes following his movements.

Now where was that crime scene that Poppy talked to him about? Surely he must be able to get some hints there, or he might have to actually do some grunt work and break into the FBI.

Charlie dearly hoped that Poppy’s organization would get its priorities straightened out soon so that he would finally be able to show off his not inconsiderable talent. So what if he got taken out by that bloody chav in Valentine’s bunker? It wasn’t as if he could have known that the boy was actually equipped with Kingsman only gadgets!

It was a good thing that he never made it to the table, if Kingsman was taking on worthless chavs like that.

* * *

Charlie slowly woke up with a harsh ringing in his ears, echoing like gong, worsening his already pounding headache. Raising his head a little, Charlie let it fall back onto the harsh, metal slab below him with a groan as the pounding in his head seemed to worsen at the slight movement.

Letting the cool metal seep seep through his scalp for a second, Charlie’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

Metal. He was lying on metal.

The last he remembered was falling asleep on his soft hotel mattress, resting on expensive Egyptian cotton sheets.

Staring up at the gleaming metal ceiling above, Charlie slowly tilted his head to the side, taking in the squeaky clean room he was laying in. All around him, there were large hooks hanging from the ceiling, meat-hooks that looked like they belonged more in a slaughterhouse than in here—wherever here was. Next to his head was a small side table covered with a large amount of medical equipment and plastic gloves, while a dentist’s light was shining into his eyes.

Pulling at the leather cuffs that were holding his hands, feet and neck in place for a moment to test them, Charlie winced as they just bit into his skin without giving an inch. Squinting at the bright light above him, the sudden soft hiss of a door closing caught his attention.

Turning his head towards the noise, Charlie tried to see whoever it was that was walking closer to him, narrowing his eyes against the glare. He shouldn’t have bothered, the shadow kept walking towards him until a man stood besides the metal table Charlie was bound to, looking down at him with a blank look on his face.

For a second, Charlie took in the figure. It was a man, rather tall and lean, wearing a dark plaid suit that was covered by a full-bodied plastic poncho. Dark eyes were looking him up and down, disdain twisting the man’s thin lips down at the corners, before he reached over to put on the plastic gloves that lay on the small side table.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Charlie finally found his voice, though he was unhappy to hear it sounded slightly hysterical. He had hoped to hide that. “Do you know who I am?!”

The man snapped on the gloves, quirking one of his eyebrows the slightest bit.

“I suppose you are about to enlighten me.” Unlike Charlie’s sharp, almost shrill voice, the man sounded unworried, his voice soft and smooth.

“I am Charlie Hesketh! My father will find you! My boss will kill you!” The last was added in a bit of a stutter as Charlie realized that no, his father would not find him. His father had his head blown up two years back by that bloody chav.

“Tell me, mr. Hesketh, are you a drinker?”

The man had turned away from him, and was now looking at the small pile of medical instruments, before carefully picking up a scalpel. Twirling it expertly between his fingers, the man’s eyes started moving down Charlie’s naked body, looking for the perfect spot to start his newest masterpiece.

Charlie was now officially sweating and more nervous than he had been for that bloody train test.

“I have money, lots of it! I won’t tell anybody, I swear! I have a lot of money, millions of pounds, just let me go!”

Placing the tip of the scalpel against Charlie’s scrotum, the man looked at Charlie from the corners of his eyes, amusement twinkling in his dark gaze.

“Do I look like a man in need of money, mr. Hesketh? No, I believe your liver would be rather tasteless, wouldn’t it? Perhaps your lungs. You seem to have a big enough pair, for all that you are wasting it on your useless babbling.”

Charlie desperately tried to follow the path of the scalpel as it moved over his chest, dragging upwards and leaving a slight line of blood in its path wherever it broke skin.

“Or maybe I will take your tongue.” The scalpel came to a stop against Charlie’s lips, its point digging in his lower lip just enough to break the fragile skin. “Because I do so very much hate rude pigs like you.” The hand not holding the scalpel grabbed Charlie’s jaw tightly, wrenching his mouth open with seemingly no effort, despite Charlie fighting against his restraints and the hand.

“Yes, your tongue will go nicely with the red wine tonight. But then there is still the problem of your hands to deal with, isn’t there, little piggy?”

The tip of the scalpel was tapped against Charlie’s nose, before the man smiled widely at him, showing his teeth in a smile that might have looked comforting, had the situation been any different.

“After all, you did spill your coffee on my freshly laundered suit, and that is just beyond rude.” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief, eyes darting over the man’s features before recognition hit him. This was the man he had bumped into yesterday.

And didn’t he just say something about pairing his _tongue_ with _red wine_?

Oh fuck.

He was staring into the bloodthirsty eyes of the Chesapeake Ripper.

Oh _shite_.

* * *

Eggsy hummed as he pushed the door to the meeting room open with a hip, carefully balancing four steaming plates of food on his arms.

The conversation in the room halted as Merlin, Arthur and Lancelot all looked at the plate-laden Guinevere, before they each accepted a plate from him with bemused looks in their eyes as he passed each of them, before he finally seated himself besides Harry.

“What is this then, my dear boy?”

Looking up from where he was handing out cutlery to everyone, Eggsy beamed up at Harry.

“Me uncle sent me this delicious offal just this morning, and he gave me an exact recipe to follow. ‘E normally prefers to do the cookin’ himself, but he lives in the States, see? So I followed his exact instructions and it tastes fucking delicious! But uncle always sends me too much, so I thought I’d share.”

Digging into his meal with gusto, though keeping in mind his manners as he did not want Harry to start lecturing him, Eggsy let a smile slip on his face as he saw the pleasantly surprised looks appear on his friends’ faces as soon as they took their first bite of the meat.

“He cuts ‘n prepares the meat himself, uncle’s really good at all that.”

Indeed, one might even say that his uncle cut the meat fresh from the bone, or chest cavity as it were.

Grinning to himself, Eggsy let a dark pleasure fill him as he took another bite of Charlie’s smoked lungs.

For a posh twat, Charlie was rather tasty.

* * *

You can find me as [Merwin-Me](https://www.merwin-me.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr

 


End file.
